Let's Play A Game
by Zeldaisawesome123
Summary: BBC Sherlock universe - Sherlock has found himself in an unfortunate situation. (Rating may change in the future)
1. Chapter 1 - Prologue

dizziness...

that is what I felt when I gained conciousness...

I had lost all feeling in my arms. I could feel something cool and hard that was restraining them together. the only part of my body touching the ground was my toes.

_How did I get here?_

I tried to lick my lips, but they wouldn't open. I then became aware that duct-tape had been slapped over my mouth...

_I've been captured...but by who?_

Whoever my kidnapper was had taken most of my clothes; I just had my shirt and pants on.

I forced my eyes open so I could examine my surroundings.

I looked up - as much as my head would allow me - and i saw that I was chained to the ceiling.

_That explains why only my toes reach the ground..._

I looked around. there were stairs in front of me and no windows in this room. that suggests that I am in a basement of some sort. I is very dusty around so it is obvious that this room is never used often. There are red splotches on the floor... that could be from paint or from something else... something I don't want to think about...

The door upstairs creaked open and a silhouette of my kidnapped appeared. I stared at him as he strolled down the stairs. I've only seen that figure once before for five minuets, but he has caused lots of problems for me. I know exactly who this man was.

"Hello Sherlock! Did you miss me?" said Jim Moriarty, with a grin that closely resembled the Jokers.

I growled at him. That is the most noise I could have made with this goddamn duct-tape over my mouth.

"Now, now Sherlock, it that really how you treat your host?" He stroked my cheek and stared at me to see if he had caused any reactions. I glared at him and he slapped me. My head snapped to one side and there was a sickening crack, and I knew that I had pulled some sort of muscle in my neck. I couldn't find the strength to move my head back so I stayed like that.

"I would like to play a game, Sherlock."


	2. Chapter 2

"I would like to play a game Sherlock!"

This wouldn't end well. I don't think that I could possibly leave this situation alive. Moriarty is a sick twisted man who does disgusting crimes, so whatever he was planning now could not be good.

"Do you want to be in this game?"

I continued to look in the direction that my head was facing when he whacked me, but he gripped my chin, making sure that he would leave bruises there, and made me face him. I squeezed my eyes shut.

"*sigh* Must you be so rude?" he reached into his pocket (well, that's what I imagine he's doing by the sounds of things) and then he pressed something cold and sharp up against my neck that was unmistakably a knife. I froze as still as a statue.

"Look at me when I'm speaking to you Sherlock! It's not polite to avoid eye contact with your peers!"

The last time I checked, it wasn't polite to drug someone, tie them up in your basement and threaten them with a knife! And he was definitely not my peer! But I opened my eyes anyway, since I do not want to see what he will do with that knife if I disobey.

"Mmm you look so sexy all tied up with your mouth taped shut," he seductively suggested, as he started to close the space between us and removed his hand from my chin to place on my chest. "I could do what I want with you right now you know, Sherlock. You are at my mercy. Your destiny is in my hands!"

He seemed to be treating the whole thing as a joke. This made me sick to my stomach.

"But you're so pale my little Sherlock; you need a bit of colour on you. I think you would suit a bit of... RED!"

Before I could register what had happened, Moriarty stabbed me in the shoulder with the knife. I screamed and my eyes were wide open. They felt like they would pop out at any second. My screams were muffled through the tape, but they were still heard.

"Should we see if it can go all the way through?" I shook my head violently, but. He pushed the blade until it pierced through the other side of my skin. I probably won't die from that wound, but I won't be able to move it in the same way again.

Tears were streaming down my face uncontrollably as this pain was unwilling inflicted on me.  
Moriarty must have moved behind me sometime because he was now hugging me from behind and stroking my hair.

"Hush now, my pet, it will be alright!"

I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed until I eventually blacked out, and Moriarty was cradling me the whole time.

* * *

When I regained consciousness I was aware that I was no longer hanging from the ceiling. Instead I was chained to some form of chair.

_Did he have to pick out a metal chair?_

I groaned in pain. The knife was still lodged in my shoulder and the pain was still present.

"Shhh!"

I jumped when Moriarty whispered into my ear. He quietly snickered and licked at my ear. I shuddered. His hand crawled up to my hair and made slow circles through my scalp.

"You have no idea how long I have waited for this opportunity Sherlock. I have wanted this for ages! I have been craving to make you into my pet! And now it's finally happening!"

I tried to pull away, but he yanked my head back towards him.

I kept my eyes shut: partially because my eyelids felt as heavy as an elephant and partially because I was genuinely scared of what I would see. I couldn't stop them from snapping open when Moriarty moved the knife impaled through my shoulder. Already I felt the blood starting to run down my back.

"I think it is time to take that nasty knife, don't you?"

I shook my head in protest, but he gripped the handle and slowly dragged it out so I would deliberately feel more pain.

My breathing came out through my nose in short pants. Now more than ever did I wish that I could have the use of my mouth?

Moriarty wiped the blade on my chest, leaving more warm blood on my shirt.

"That's better isn't it!"

This was sick.

He was sick.

I felt light headed with all of the blood that was gushing out of my shoulder. I didn't actually know how much I was losing – I was too afraid to check – but it felt like a lot. I hope he had enough sense to at least bandage the wound.

I could see my blood starting to pool on the floor.

"Look, you've made a mess on my floor now"

Clearly he was not bothered at the fact that I was rapidly losing blood and if I didn't get any sort of medical attention then I would surely get extremely ill.

"Mmmph!"

"Oh I'm sorry Sherlock, did you say something?"

He walked in front of me and sat on top of my lap. My legs shook under his weight after being weak due to them not being used properly in days.

He tugged slightly at the edges of the tape.

"Would you like me to take this off?"

I nodded. He pulled the tape off my mouth – along with what felt like a couple of layers of skin. I could have screamed for help right now, but that would be foolish. If I knew Moriarty correctly, then we would most likely be in some sort of isolated location. Either that or it had bombs that were ready to blow up at his demand. So screaming was not my priority at the minuet.

I tried talking, but my throat was all dry and hurt badly. It was like someone was rubbing sandpaper down my throat. I had to do my best.

"Look…can i…please have a….bandage…for this…."

"I was going to give one to you anyway Sherlock. I don't want you dying on me."

If he doesn't want to kill me, then what does he actually want me for?


End file.
